My Refuge and My Sheild
by Hhope
Summary: Matt Murdock struggles to find peace as he plunges deeper and deeper into Fisk's corruption of Hell's Kitchen. Ruth Collins feels as though she is being suffocated by the crime raging in the city. While their surroundings crumble, they try to search for hope only to realize that they may have more in common than they at first realized. Set during season 1. Matt/OC
1. Hope in Your Word

**Psalm 119:114 "You are my refuge and my shield; I have put my hope in your word."**

His grasp on my hand loosened and my heart sped up, breath hitching in my throat. They had told me that today would probably be the day but now that it had come I simply couldn't accept it. No. I couldn't believe it. I tried to focus on his face but my thoughts were clouding my brain. The pain in his eyes flowed freely through his tears, and yet there was love and hope there, in his dark eyes that had always been so gentle and warm. I had never seen such raw emotion from my father.

My stomach churned and the room spun; I squeezed his pale hand tighter, gliding my thumb across his palm. The sheer white glow that covered everything in the hospital room hurt my eyes and tears blurred my vision, I could feel a pain in my chest form as though my heart was being twisted and pulled on. My whole body ached. The pump of my heartbeat was all that I could hear. I had prayed to God the night before, sitting by my father's bedside, that this day wouldn't come so soon. He was too young, only fifty-five years old, and there was so much more that he had planned to do in his life.

The room was quiet, yet all the thoughts that were jumbled in my mind made me feel as though I had just stepped onto a busy city street. My head was full of nonsensical noise and I couldn't breathe. _Just make it stop... I can't take this anymore..._

With a shaky breathe that seemed too short to be substantial, my father turned his head to look at my mother who had come to sit on the opposite side of the bed form me. The look he gave her spoke more that any words could; they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Then he slowly turned his head to me, grinning and letting out a small content sigh. Closing his eyes, the little life that was left inside of him drained from him and it was over.

I looked up, but wasn't paying attention to what I was seeing. The noise that cluttered my brain was gone and now I felt... empty. Faintly hearing the moans, sobs, and loud prayers of my mother; I closed my eyes to pray. Because that was what a good Christian in a crisis was supposed to do, I was taught. Even when the crisis seemed impossible.

"I know that this is in your plan, God... I-I know... that this is all in your plan... somehow. Um...- _Please no. He was a good man. Please let me wake up from this_ _nightmare-_ Idon't understand why this is happening, but I'm going to try." My lip quivered, eyebrows scrunched together as I tried to focus on the words I was trying to say. What words could help us now. He was dead. "Help us... _What's life gong to be like without him_. I can't- just, I-I need you, God. Please. Please, help me to- just help me understand." A crack in my voice led to strangling noises in my throat as I tried to keep from going hysterical. My mother's arms wrapped around me and she sobbed against my shoulder.

Tears spilled down my cheek and my face grew hot. "We'll see him again one day, mom. It's okay. - _No, it's not_ \- Dad... He's in Heaven now. He's with God now. He is. I know he is. It's okay, momma. We're going to be okay."

• • •

 **One Year Later**

The subway smelled, the large man standing in front of me smelled, and I was pretty sure that I smelled, too. In short, the whole of New York seemed to give off an unholy odor that left an unpleasant feeling in my stomach. Or maybe I was just being too judgmental and not giving the city a fair chance. But I doubted it.

As the subway began to move, a sick feeling washed over me and I turned to look at my mother seated next to me. She was the picture of perfect serenity. Familiarity radiated from her as she casually sat back on the stiff seats of the subway. I was everything she was not, at the moment; my back ramrod straight and my knuckles white as snow as I tightly grasped my purse and surveyed the New Yorkers around me. Having grown up in the suburbs of California, the Big Apple was a whole new terrain that I felt completely lost in. Without my mother, who had grown up and lived in the dingy streets of Hell's Kitchen until she was nearly 30 years old, I was sure that I would already be dead in a ditch by now.

Finally making it to our destination, I grabbed onto my mother's arm making sure to not be separated in the sea of angry and impatient people. There were so many things happening, the feeling reminiscent of white noise, irritating and slightly unsettling. We exited the subway station and I breathed in the slightly fresher air outside.

"Okay, Ruth, if you're gonna become a true New Yorker like your mom, you have to learn how to act like one." My mother had proclaimed, walking onto the busy sidewalk as if she owned the whole city. I smiled and joined her, linking our arms together as we made our way towards our apartment building. Although the last year or so had been rough and mom had been less like herself, I could already see a drastic change in the woman. Just breathing in the air of her old beloved city brought new life to her. However, it was having quite the opposite effect on me.

"Okay, so how is a New Yorker supposed to act?"

"Rude."

"So, pretty much like how all of the movies stereotype to be? Okay, I guess I need to start my research then." I snorted and pulled my jacket around me tighter.

She laughed, a happy sound that I had been missing lately. "I'm kidding, Ruthie. Mostly, anyways. I mean that you have to be a little tougher than you usually are. Which I know might be a little difficult for you 'cause you're such a softy-"

"Hey, I can be tough if I need to be!" I scoffed, lightly slapping her arm, our laughter ringing through the crowded air. We walked further down the sidewalk and I suddenly felt young again, and not in a good way. The skyscrapers were so tall that I felt as though I was very insignificant and small, with no knowledge and no means of protecting myself. _Nothing about this is pleasant. Now it's making me have insecurity problems_.

"I'm glad you're here with me," my mother finally spoke up after a good ten minutes of silence, "I just mean that... I know that this was difficult for you to do after losing your father and now you move with me to a whole new-"

"Mom, stop, it's okay! I wasn't going to live all the way across the country from you. I know how much this city means to you and you know we both would've hated living so far away from each other. Maybe it's difficult for me to understand... well, what the big deal is about this city because I haven't ever lived here but I'm willing to give it a chance." Sniffling was the only reply that I was given for a while as she tried to hold back tears.

"Thank you, Ruth." she croaked out while keeping herself from sobbing.

The rest of the walk was silent between us, but the city continued on with its yelling, honking, and general chaos. I let myself be guided by my mother so that I could look around at my new home.

 _What does she see when she looks at this place. I mean, I see dark alleyways and malicious figures that are looking for defenseless women. Hasn't she seen some sketchy stuff happen around here that would make her appreciate what we had in California. Also, I hope she isn't forgetting the alien attack that went on not that long ago. Yeah, it's probably not likely to happen again in the same place but.. gosh, that's creapy. And then there's the crime and the whole vigilante thing going on with that Russian mob stuff and wow what have we gotten ourselves into... We're gonna die here. We're gonna get murdered. Okay, okay, okay... try to be positive, you agreed to this. Maybe it'll all work out. Maybe this is where God wants you to be. You just have to trust Him a little more. There has to be a reason, a very good reason, for why my mother and I have just moved to a crime infested, recently alien attacked, superhero filled city. Just trust God. That's aaaaalllll you gotta do. If you can't trust God then you might as well just give up on everything now._

• • •

The apartment complex came into view and my aching body rejoiced at the sight of it. I told myself that I had come to New York looking for a fresh start, a new beginning with my mother. Of course that was only a way to make myself feel better about leaving California. I had only just recently graduated from college with a degree in art and as all of my professors and college buddies told me, my whole life was ahead of me. My mom had told me that I would be met with new opportunities and new friends so I decided, what the heck, I might as well go and see if that's true. First impressions of the city were not giving much hope of finding a bright future there.

While my mind was drifting about my impeding doom, my mother had gone back to being her usual talkative self and was now rattling on about old memories, "And you'll finally get to know your Aunt Marcy and Uncle Jeffery! They've been dying to see you, you know. It's been years. Hmmm, you know, I think the last time you saw them was at Jack Murdock's funeral. Goodness, that was such a sad day. You went, too, you know. Do you remember? It was such a long time ago."

"A little bit, I guess." Only some distinct parts of the event stuck out in my mind. I remember my aunt and uncle vaguely. The cheek-pinches and strawberry candies were the only clear memory of the couple that I had. Jack Murdock's funeral was one of the few times that I had been to New York and let me tell you, going to a city for a funeral will not give you good memories or feelings about a place. I must have been... well, I know I was young, probably only four years old, so the only clear memory of the funeral was seeing the dead man in the coffin and meeting the dead man's blind son. He was the first blind person whom I had ever met which is probably why I still remembered him. A boy, only about nine years of age with dark glasses and a cane. Now a blind orphan. _What a depressing memory. No wonder I hate New York so much._

• • •

We entered the grey apartment building and after cluelessly searching for our floor and room; we finally found our new place of residence. It was small and not on the best side of town, but it made my mother happy and had a place for me to sleep so I didn't really care where or what it was. The plane ride and walking was enough to make me too tired to care about anything at that point.

"We're going to be happy here." My mother sighed as she flopped onto the couch in the living room. I looked around our new home and felt satisfied enough . Which was surprising. It was bright and roomy with plenty of space for the two of us to live comfortably.

"I think we will be." I replied, not sure if I was trying to convince myself that we would be or if I really meant it.

• • •

 **-Third Person POV-**

Matthew Murdock had been having a bad day. However, this wasn't a rare thing for the vigilante anymore. The city seemed to be filling up with more darkness each night and the evil continued to creep it's tendrils into the lives of the innocent. That was why he did what he did, though. Keeping the people of Hell's Kitchen safe was what made the scars and bruises worth it. So he pushed on and tried to convince Foggy and Karen that he was okay. That the injuries were minor, mere accidents that occur when one is without sight. But, of course, Matt knew that there was more to it. That the current bruise he was sporting under his eye was actually from a lucky punch that a lowlife had gotten in before being pummeled by the devil. Matt didn't get much information from him but it was better than nothing.

Well, it would have been nice to get at least a little more. At least he had a name. Fisk. The monster. He was the evil. He was the darkness that was trying to choke out the light and leave people like Ms. Cardenas in the dirt. _He deserves to be- to be..._ Matt sighed and shook his head, getting up from his desk in the small law firm office that he and Foggy owned. Nelson & Murdock. Matt was trying to make their business a beacon of hope in the dark city. Something for people to grab onto for justice. But the law wasn't always enough. Which was why Matt was in the state that he was in, at the moment.

"Karen, I'm heading out for a while. " He tried to sound cheerful when he addressed his secretary but the stress and exhaustion in his voice was clearly evident no matter how much he tried to mask it.

"Yeah..." Karen shuffled her papers around and smiled brightly at him, but there was concern in her eyes, concern that Matt decided to ignore. "Bring back some coffee, maybe? Our maker stopped working," the blond secretary got up from her makeshift desk and made her way to Matt. "Though that probably isn't that bad of news to you and Foggy now that I'm aware of how much you hate how I make coffee." She smirked, sarcasm dripping from her voice, the concern now washed away. The conversation was so causal, so normal. It was a bit of a relief from the stressful moral war that had been going on inside of Matt for the past few days.

"I'm pretty sure it was Foggy who said he didn't like your coffee," Matt chuckled as he went to grab his cane. "Anyways, I'll get the stuff and be back at around 1:00. Foggy said he'd be coming in soon, too."

"Good, I wanted to interrogate him about how _he_ would make the coffee." Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she made her way back towards her desk, stretching her arms.

The lawyer left the office and breathed in the smog-filled city air. The chaos filled his senses but the man was used to the noise pollution and blocked it out as he made his way down the street. The crime had always been bad in his city but ever since Fisk had risen to power, Matt could sense the corruption, the injustice grow even heavier. It made him sick. Made him angry and maybe a little too heated. He wanted the man dead even though he knew what that meant for his own life; his own eternity.

His feet and cane led him to a familiar road that brought him to a familiar church. _I need answers. No, I don't. I just need someone to talk to._ _Someone who won't judge me. All this stress makes me feel like I'm going to explode. Or go too far the next time a criminal crosses my path. I know what I want to do. I want to beat Wilson Fisk down to a pulp and leave him bleeding. But- but if what I'm wrong. And if I do that, what I really want to do, then what does that mean for my eternity?_

Matt knew that there was someone else beside the Father in the church before he even stepped foot inside. _Maybe I should come back_. And yet his feet kept going until he was standing inside and then kneeling in front of the altar, crossing himself as he had done a thousand times before. The third party of the group was a woman sweating profusely and wearing way too much perfume.

"Hello, Matthew!" The man who he had come to see spoke cheerily, getting up from his spot on the pew next to the strong-smelling girl. "This is Ruth Collins. You know her uncle from the barber shop." Matt did recall the kindly barber bringing up something about a sister and niece coming to the city. He tried to pay attention to what Father Lantom said and then what the girl, Ruth, was saying but his mind kept wandering to why he was at the church in the first place.

Ruth Collins was a pettite women, standing about a whole foot lower than him. She seemed nice enough, maybe in need of a shower, but he could tell that she was nervous. Matthew could only guess she had social anxiety. Her heart rate pounded in his ears when he stretched out his hand to shake hers. She hesitantly shook it, her eyes shifting to the priest and then back to Matt. The two conversed for a moment, trying to make do with the awkward introductions and be civilized, but in the end the women scurried out of the church as quickly as possible. Matt could only assume that his bruises had intimidated her.

"She's a sweet woman isn't she," Father Lantom spoke up once she had left. The comment brought Matt out of his thoughts and he turned slightly to face the older man. The priest walked towards the pew that he and the woman had been sitting on and Matt followed. Her scent still lingered strongly and Matthew had to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose. Sure, living with Foggy had helped the blind man deal with such obstacles such as strong odors but he still wasn't a fan of them _._ Father Lantom lowered himself onto the pew, the old wood squeaking in protest under his weight, "If I remember correctly, I think that her parents were close to yours, Matthew. Her mother grew up in Hell's Kitchen, Julia was her name, if I remember correctly. That was years ago. She used to come here sometimes to read. Every once in a while I would approach her and we would talk. It's funny, you know, she wasn't even Catholic, she was a Baptist; I think she just liked the atmosphere in here when it was empty. I can't blame her. When I saw Ruth I thought I had gone back in time. She looks a lot like her mother." Matthew nodded slowly, he remembered Ruth's parents a little but his mind was too torn a part at the moment to even think back to his depressing childhood and the people involved in it. Matt sighed, it wasn't important. He had more stressing matters on his mind than old connections. "Latte?" Lantom spoke up after the lingering silence between the two.

Matt gave a ghost of a smile. Something else normal that Matt could hold onto during the storm going on his life right now. "Yes, thank you."

 **Author's Note:**

I just checked my account and realized that I've been on this website since 2012 so I guess its about time I decided to post a story... This idea has been in my phone for a while now and I've been editing it like crazy so now I just want to post it because it's driving me insane. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this but I have another chapter pretty much done so I'll probably be posting it soon. I hope to post consistently so I'll make a plan for the rest of the story so I know what I'm doing. Thank you if you're reading this and please give me some constructive criticism because I need it. I hope you all enjoy! Stay classy, friends!


	2. So Do Not Fear

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil, just my OC's. All rights go to Marvel... Just in case you guys were wondering.

Authors Note: This starts out with Ruth's point of view when first meeting Matt Murdock. Now we get to see what poor Ruth thought of our favorite bruised avocado.

 **"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10**

 _It smells like people in here... Not in an unpleasant way, though. Not like the rest of New York._ It was almost like walking into someone's home- a friend's home- that has such a distinct and familiar smell that you feel right at home the moment you breath it in. That's what this place was like; the perfume in the air made up of incense, old wood, and fresh air lifted my heart just a little bit. Other than that, the old church was rather plain compared to the grand cathedrals that I had seen elsewhere; instead of grand arches and intricate paintings and statues, there was one statue of Jesus and a few stained glass windows. Though this may have seemed a little underwhelming and far less impressive, I liked it much better than the other grand buildings. This was a much more humble sort of place, like a church should be. Welcoming to all of the poor and lost, somewhere for the weary to rest their head.

Stepping into the quiet church cautiously, I half expecting to be stopped by a priest and ordered out. But no one came so I walked towards one of the middle pews and sat. The wood groaned underneath me and then the silence settled again.

 _I hope it's okay that I'm here._ I looked up to examine the figure of Jesus on the cross hung above the altar. Sunlight streamed in through the stained glass windows, the wooden Jesus softly glowing in the colored shine. There was a peaceful expression on his face despite the fact that there were nails in his wrists. _That can't be accurate, Jesus was a human being who could feel and so he would probably be expressing his pain in some way. I guess that wouldn't be very uplifting to see Jesus crying out in pain at the altar, though. But if I'm wrong and it is accurate then I wish I was that calm through stressful situations._

The worn hand-me-down Bible that I carried felt especially heavy in my hands today. The pages were curled slightly and the spine was cracked from use, it looked like the pages were about to fall out at any second. The margins were littered with notes, the handwriting a deep ebony carved into the delicate paper. Perhaps my father thought that the harder he pressed down on the paper the more likely the words would be engrained in his brain. He was always so eager to learn more about the Word of God. _Why am I never that eager to learn? Maybe if I was I would be happier. My dad was always happy. Even on the brink of death. I want that happiness, too._

I had left the apartment that afternoon on a mission. My mother and I had only been in New York for about a day and already I felt like I was losing it. _You turn on the news and there's crazy crap happening and then you walk outside and you literally see the crazy crap happening right in front of you._ I felt like I was living in some ridiculous T.V. drama that wouldn't end. My mission: to find out why the heck anyone would actually enjoy living in this city. To do that, I needed to explore the city. Well, not exactly explore- I'm not adventurous enough- but look around a little. The church, while not being of my denomination, looked inviting and quiet and I couldn't help but be drawn in. I flipped through the Bible and my eyes skimmed over the page. "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10. _Ok, that's encouraging because I definitely need some strength now, God. How am I supposed to not fear in a place called Hell's Kitchen?_

I sat back, resting against the pew, and closed my eyes; meditating on the words. Trying to, anyways. My mind was always prone to wander which became a problem when I prayed. It was silent, the airy church only giving the occasional creak as old buildings do. Peace at last. Just God, a statue of Jesus, and me. Or not. The wood of the pew creaked with the weight of another body and my serenity crumbled. I jumped and whipped around to face the intruder of my privacy, audibly gasping.

"Oh! I'm sorry if I scared you..." His voice was low but soft. I quickly gained my wits back and examined my companion. He was an older man and there was wisdom in his eyes that seemed to go beyond the knowledge of a regular man. His dress was one of a priest, which made me instantly relax. _He's probably just wondering what the heck I'm doing in his church._

"I-I'm sorry, is it okay that I'm here? I wasn't really sure if you had, like, visiting hours, or something. The doors were unlocked so I just kind of assumed- um, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. Your'e probably closed-"

He smiled at me and nodded his head, an amused gleam in his eye. The wrinkles in his face deepened with his smile but for some reason it still made him look younger. "Everyone is welcomed at any time in the house of God." I smiled yet still felt like I was probably intruding. "Howard Lantom." He offered me his hand and I shook it tentatively.

"Ruth Collins."

"Are you new to Hell's Kitchen?" He seemed genuinely curious, his eyes flicking to the book on my lap and then back to my face. It took me a moment to process his question, not sure if I had enough energy to start up a conversation with a stranger.

"I just moved to New York, actually."

"Oh? How are you liking it?" He was genuinely curious, something that the people I usually met never were.

"... It's definitely different than California." _I hate it and wish I had never left home but I'm not going to tell you that, of course._

"Is that where you're from? California?"

"Yeah... My mother grew up in Hell's Kitchen but we've been in California since I was born... I guess- I guess she decided it was time to move back."

He nodded his head thoughtfully, "It was good of you to come with her."

I faltered for a moment, trying to think of a response. _I couldn't have lived so far away from her, especially after... losing dad_. "We're pretty close." Was all that I could say. I knew he could tell that I was uncertain of my whole situation.

"Sometimes, God lets us go through tribulations that we think are too much for us," my eyes wandered to the Bible in my lap. "But in reality, all we are asked to do is have faith in him." The words hung in the air and filled my brain. I had been putting God in the back of my mind a lot as of late. I hadn't been trusting Him. I nodded slowly and furrowed my brows. The silence hung thick all around.

"Are you, by any chance, related to Jeffery Collins? He owns the barber shop not too far from here?" The change in topic was gratefully accepted.

"Yeah, he's my uncle."

"You look like him. I used to go to him a lot, back when I had hair, of course." He chuckled thoughtfully and the tension from moments ago was released. I let myself laugh, relieved and a little surprised to see that this priest was such a laid back guy.

The doors to the church creaked open and taps on the floor announced a newcomer. I glanced over my shoulder but couldn't help a double take when I saw the man walking in. Does that sound dramatic? It wasn't really, it was only because I had met so few blind people in my life and.. I don't know. Maybe I am just dramatic.

His dark glasses and cane were obvious indicators of his disability. He walked slowly to the altar and kneeled, crossing himself before rising. I realized that I was staring, but more importantly, Father Lantom noticed as well. Flustered, I looked down at the Bible in my lap again and tried to focus on the words. _So do not fear, for I am with you_. The weight on the pew shifted as Father Lantom rose to greet the blind man.

"Hello, Matthew! I was wondering when I might see you again." The blind man, Matthew, turned in the direction of the priest and offered a tightlipped smile. The two exchanged friendly greetings yet I could sense a tension in the air. They weren't angry at each other or anything like that; there was just a sense of urgency in the way the man acted. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he we're stuck in a perpetual state of worry and his hands squeezed his cane so tightly that his knuckle shown white. _Maybe I should go..._ I grabbed my things and tried my very best to sneak out quietly but Lantom stopped me before I could get any further. "Matthew, this is Ruth Collins. You know her uncle Jeffery from the barber shop." _Crap._

"Hi." I tried to sound as kind and normal as I could but my anxiety flowed out in waves and I was grateful that he couldn't see my pained expression. It wasn't that I couldn't talk to people, I held a conversation with the priest easily enough. Sometimes, though, there are people that just are... intimidating. And this guy was intimidating.

"Oh... Um. Yes, it's nice to meet you." He turned his head in my general direction and his face went from being hard set to relaxed and generally normal. I looked from the priest to Matthew's held out hand, quizzically. _What is this priest trying to do? Is he trying to set us up or something? Am I on a hidden camera show? Am I being dramatic again?_

"Nice to meet you." I gave the firmest handshake that I could. _I refuse to make this awkward. I'm an adult. I can make good first impressions._

"Matthew Murdock." I recognized the last name though I couldn't figure out how. Maybe my mom knew him. Or my dad.

"Matthew is a lawyer in town. He does a lot of good work for people." the priest piped in before turning away to do whatever it is that Catholic priests do.

He gave me a half-hearted smile as we shook hands. _He's definitely a charming guy, isn't he? If my mom saw us she'd probably freak and go matchmaker on me_. Matthew Murdock was a good 7 inches taller than me- which isn't really a big deal because I'm only 5"3'. He was well built and his face was slightly scruffy like he hadn't shaved in a while. I could tell even with his glasses on that he was a handsome guy. A bluish bruise stood out on his cheekbone right under his glasses and a scar lined his jaw. _Looks like someone's been having a rough day._ He cleared his throat, chuckling slightly, "We do our best."

"Wow, a lawyer that's- that's cool. Do you work for a big firm or…"

"A friend of mine and I started our own. We're still new, still trying to figure out what we're doing." His words came out quick and precise in a no-nonsense kind of way yet he was nice, maybe a bit tense but still nice.

"Yeah, that's- that's cool. If I ever run into a bit of trouble I guess I know who to call." _Okay, you're doing good keeping up dialogue. Oh, stop sweating; this is what normal people do. He's going to think you're a freak. Act like the adult you're supposed to be._

"Well, we could use all the clientele we can get so tell your friends, too."

"Sure thing," a moment of silence penetrated the air and the priest seemed to have found the statue of Jesus hanging on the cross more interesting than keeping our conversation going while the lawyer looked like he was getting restless. _I need to end this_. "I-uh-I should be heading home. My mom probably thinks I got hit by a taxi or something." Father Lantom smirked but Matthew seemed to have gotten caught up in his own thoughts, his head turned downwards and his brow once again scrunched. "Um, what was the name of your firm again, just in case I might need it? You never know in a place like this." His head snapped up out of his thoughts.

"Nelson & Murdock. Feel free to come by anytime."

"Yeah, I will. It was really nice to meet you, Father Lantom and Mr. Murdock."

"I hope to see you again, soon, Ruth." Was the priest's reply before I slipped out.

I walked out of that church as fast as I could, my whole face burning from embarrassment. _Why can't I be good at talking to people like Olive? And what was up with that Murdock guy? He just seemed kind of... Well, I wouldn't say he was being rude but- no; he was just preoccupied with something else more important. Or maybe he was just having an off day, it definitely looked like it with those bruises. Anyway, who am I to judge him? He's a lawyer; he's probably got a lot on his mind. Especially a Catholic lawyer with fresh bruises on his face._

My phone vibrated against my thigh. "Hey, Ruth! I was just checkin' in. How's New York been treatin' yah?" Olivia's voice floated through the speaker, her sentence interrupted every so often by the sound of what I assumed must be popcorn being eaten.

"Hey, Olive." I looked at my surroundings, trying to think of something positive to say about the city. "Um, New York's fine, I guess. Not as glitzy as it is in the movies but it'll have to do." I could hear her sigh over the phone. _She definitely just rolled her eyes at me._

Olivia Woods is just the kind of best friend that any girl needs. She's courageous, insanely witty, and beautiful. But don't think that she's perfect. I could just picture her snuggled up on her bed binge watching Netflix in her PJs. Classic Olive.

"You're a baby. A literal baby. I think I need to go over there and check on you to make sure you're not doing something stupid."

"What did I say that would indicate that I'm doing something stupid? I've only been here for a day. Also, I can't be a 'literal baby' because that would _literally_ be impossible. I'm older than you, anyways."

"You know what I mean! You're in New York saying that there isn't anything to do. Are we thinking of the same place? The stupid thing you're doing is that you're not doing anything at all."

"But-"

"Nope! No buts. Live a little, Ruth! Go on an adventure and meet people. You're so boring!" I chuckled softly at her small rant; we had had this conversation too many times. Olive had recently gotten married and was already going places at her job as a journalist. I had always been a little less of a busy body than her, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I just liked to take my time on things.

"I appreciate your concern, but I am an adult. I can spend my free time however I please, thank you very much!"

"Loser."

"Alright, fine. I'll happily be a loser."

She dramatically sighed, grumbling something inaudible under her breath. "Alright, Jason just got home and I haven't made dinner yet so I've got to go. You know how annoying he gets when he's hungry." I laughed remembering the years in college spent listening to him complain about missing breakfast and wanting fast food for every meal.

"Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright. Just promise me you'll do something fun tonight."

"Sure, Olive. How 'bout I go bungee jumping off of The Avenger's Tower?"

"Perfect! Don't forget to send me pics." And with that she hung up. _When will Olive learn that I'm just a boring person?_ Maybe boring was a harsh word but at that point in my life that's what I felt like and that's what I wanted to be. I didn't know anyone in New York and I didn't have anything to do except be with my mother and look for work. Not being boring got people in trouble and that's exactly what I was not looking for. However, I knew that I needed friends. Being alone or with people well over my age would probably drive me crazy.

• • •

"Really! You met Matthew Murdock! Oh, I always loved that little boy. He was just such a sweet little baby. I remember holding him when he was just this big." She held up her hands to indicate to me just how tiny Mr. Murdock was when he was a baby.

"Mm-hmm. That's fantastic mom." I replied quietly but also _very_ sarcastically.

"You know what we should do?" my mother's eyes lit up, completely ignoring my tone. _Oh no, please no, mom. Don't say it._

"Hm?" I tried to hold back the flood of thoughts in my mind. _I don't want to have him over. Nope. No way. No._

"We need to invite him over. It's been ages; oh I hope he remembers me. And we could make him something really good for dinner, um, let me think. Maybe meatloaf, he always loved it when I made that." Her voice trailed out into thoughtful contemplation over finishing unpacking and what to make for dessert as she went to pick up her dropped knitting needles.

I nodded halfheartedly, looking over to the television showing the daily news. Death, violence, hatred, and cruelty. That was all that there was. Gang violence was at large and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen was still fighting with a vengeance. I had left death behind only to be even more consumed by it here in this horrible place. Just the other day there had been something horrible about a kidnapping. I didn't really remember the details, but they had said that the father had been dragged out of the car and beaten right in front of his child. Right in front of his child. My mother had a deep respect running in her blood for this place, as if she was blind to the darkness that enveloped it. But I wasn't blind to it. I soaked it all in and instead of falling in love with the city like my mother said I would, I loathed it even more. It didn't help that the only childhood memory I had of the place was a funeral for a man who was shot because of organized crime.

"What about peach cobbler? Maybe some vanilla ice cream with it. Ooh, that sounds good. You know if you give him that, Ruthie, he'll be sure to fall in love with you. That's how I got your dad to fall in love with me. Well, that's not the only reason but-" Her comment brought me back out of my dark thoughts and I faked a smile.

"Mom, I literally just moved back in with you. You can't be trying to marry me off that fast. Do you really hate living with me that much?"

"Oh, come on, Ruth, you know I'm just joking! I'm sure you'll be good friends, though." Her eyes suddenly lit up again with excitement and I dreaded what she might be thinking. _Do I often dread my mother's schemes? Well, yes, but only when they involve me hanging out with people I don't know._

"What?" My eyebrow rose in suspicion.

"Where did you say that he worked again?"

"Who? Matthew?" I asked with dread. _Why did I tell her!_

"Of course!"

"Um, he said that he and a friend own a law firm. Nelson & Murdock or something like that."

"We should go visit him. Yes, I'll go make some cookies and you and I can go and invite him to dinner then!"

"But-but, mom, you don't even know where his building is? How are you supposed to find it?"

"I'll just call Uncle Jeffery and Aunt Marcy. They know where everything is. That reminds me, we need to get together with them soon..." She left the room and I could faintly hear her chatting away with her sister-in-law on the phone, scheduling a get together. _Why me. Why did I come here? Now I have to socialize with this person more. Well, at least he's a relatively nice guy. Maybe a little rough around the edges but we've all got problems._

•••

 **3rd Person POV**

Blood dripped from his clenched fists, dark drops splattering the cement. The man he had just pummeled leaned heavily against the brick wall in the alleyway, whimpering and cursing under his breath, earning him another blow to the head. "I told you, I don't know nothing about any Fisk!" The man gasped, holding his newly sprained wrist to his chest. The man was small and he hadn't really even tried to defend himself when the devil had caught him. His breath was labored; Matt could feel the man's whole body shake. "Please, you have to believe me!" Matt Murdock had heard those very same words too many times to count from low life criminals lately and he was tired of it. It didn't matter though; sooner or later they would usually spill their guts once they realized there was no getting out of their situation.

"I think that you do know something." He spoke slowly, his voice low and dark.

"No! Really, man, I just- I know I've done some wrong but I'm really trying to clean up my- Aaaah!" Not interested in hearing the rest of the pleads and stories about how he didn't know anything, the black-clad man grabbed for the crook's wrist, silencing him once more, except for the occasional whimper. The man's heartbeat eventually evened out, the perspiration running down his face a result of the fear that anyone would have if they were being threatened by a vigilante. The man wasn't lying though- he didn't know anything. Matt turned his head with an exasperated sigh, still keeping the man in place by the wrist. He was frustrated, his nights in the city seemed to be getting more and more fruitless each time that he went out.

Leaning in close enough that the devil could feel the man's hot breath on his face, he whispered in a gravelly voice, "Get out of my city." He could have said more to really scare the living daylights out of the man but he had already wasted enough time. There was more that he had to do that night and the sun wouldn't wait for him to finish.

* * *

Author's Note:

I hope that you all enjoyed and please review! Stay classy, people!


	3. To Suffer for Him

Chapter 3

Philippians 1:29 "For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for him,"

"Oh, look at you, you're so grown up now. Remember when she was just a little thing, Jeff? It feels like it was only yesterday when I was holding you for the first time in the hospital." My aunt looked at me with admiration. In a flurry, everyone in our small group began hugging each other, my mother and uncle laughing together with large smiles plastered on their faces. "Anyways, how was your flight?" My aunt continued, pulling slightly away from our hug to get a better look at my face.

"It was alright." I gave my mother a knowing look. We all knew how much she abhorred planes.

"Alright? It seemed like every baby on board was determined to cry the whole entire way! I didn't get a wink of sleep." My mother sighed dramatically, unceremoniously falling onto the couch.

"I don't care for airplanes that much either. They're cramped and uncomfortable. Lucky for me, I never had a reason much reason to fly." My uncle quipped in. My mother's face darkened for only a moment at the implication of what he had said. Never had time to visit me in California, not even when my husband was dying.

"I think airplanes are wonderful." My aunt rolled her eyes toward my uncle who was now in the middle of the kitchen grabbing snacks and drinks.

It had been two days after flying in and we finally had arranged to see Uncle Jeffrey and Aunt Marcy. They were much different than I remembered them being, the image of what my six year old mind had remembered them to look like now washed away, replaced with a much older couple. Their hair now sprinkled with gray and the wrinkles in the faces etched in deeper.

We settled at the table and ate merrily, enjoying each other's presence. It wasn't difficult to enjoy being there, they were very outgoing people with a knack at welcoming their guests into their home. My aunt and uncle asked me about plans for the future, I would answer with short responses to satisfy their curiosity. I silently listened to my mother, uncle, and aunt exchange memories of the days when they would parade around Hell's Kitchen together as young adults, ready to face the world. If I had thought being in Hell's Kitchen changed my mother, being with her brother and sister-in-law made her a different person altogether. She was happy. She was home.

The day grew dark and the sounds of New York's night life could be heard outside.

"Ruth," my mother looked up from her game of cards with my uncle, her eyes once again lit with excitement, "I'm thinking about spending the night here. Jeff says that there's another bedroom that we could have. What do you think?"

"Um," how do I say 'no' politely? I had been having a great time but all I could think about was the bed back at the apartment that was calling out to me. "Well, I-"

"Don't pressure the poor thing into staying here with all these old folks, Julia." My uncle chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. "She's probably got some friends waiting for her somewhere." I didn't and no one in the room was convinced that I did; either way, I let that be my excuse.

"Are you sure you can make it back alright? Do you know how to get a cab?"

"Yes, mom. Don't worry, I'm an adult. I can do it. Please, don't worry about me," I spluttered, though I myself was not totally confident of my ability to get home. "You have a good time." I quickly grabbed my things and gave goodbye hugs to everyone before stepping out into the hallway and down the stairs.

The night air whipped around my body; my nose began to run from the cold. However, the chilly weather didn't seem to deter anyone from going out and having a good time that night. Groups of people briskly made their way down the sidewalks, no doubt looking for the next bar to hit up. Their behavior was to be expected ,though, being the weekend and all.

My eyes scanned every face that brushed past me, looking for anyone sinister to avoid. At least its crowded tonight, I thought. But of course, seeing as this was me we are talking about, something had to go wrong. Because I couldn't just have a quiet walk by myself without something happening. And no, dear reader, I wasn't mugged and I didn't see a mugging. No, something much worse. I was forced to converse with someone. And yes, I do realize that I'm being highly dramatic.

I could see my building in a distance, no so very far off, but before I knew what had hit me, I was suddenly lying flat on my face. A burst of hot pain rose from the skin of my palms that had made first contact with the grimy concrete, my knees not feeling much better. Oh crap, ow, oh goodness, everyone must think I'm such an idiot. I am such an idiot. Ow.

"Aw, I'm so sorry. Totally my fault... Here, let me help you." A voice from above me said. Raising my head slightly to see who the cause of my unfortunate fall was, I was surprised to feel two soft hands grab my arms and hoist me up to my feet. Slightly disoriented, and extremely mortified, I spun around to meet the cause of my tumble face to face. In the dim light, I perceived the man, for it was a man, to be as mortified as I was. His hair was light, on the longer side, but well kept. He was dressed for business, not so very tall, yet still taller than me, of course. He was also a bit on the thicker side, but I could tell that it contributed to his all too apparent cheery personality.

"My big feet are always getting in the way," he smiled goofily at me, still a bit embarrassed.

"No, no, it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention."

"Ah, well, I feel bad either way," his hands moved to his pockets and he shrugged. "Maybe I could make it up to you?"

"Oh, no, no thanks I'm totally okay. No need-"

"No really, I half killed you," he chuckled at this. "Foggy Nelson," he shook my hand heartily, we had now moved off to the side as to not block the flow of traffic.

"Oh, um... I'm Ruth Collins," I know that name... Nelson. Why does that name sound familiar?

"No broken bones right? I know a pretty good lawyer if you do. Unfortunately that lawyer would be me so...that'd be a bit awkward."

"A lawyer?" Wait a minute. He's a lawyer. His name is Nelson... Of course.

"Yeah, Nelson & Murdock." He had whipped out a business card in a matter of seconds, eagerly laying the simple white card in my hand. I stared at the plain black font neatly printed on the small card stock. Of all the people who I could possibly have run into, it would have to be Matthew Murdock's business partner.

"Huh..." My brows furrowed as I concentrated on the words. What were the chances that I could have run into this man out of all of the strangers in New York. Well, at least this Nelson is a bit more approachable than the other man I met.

"You don't like it?"

"What?"

"The card. Yeah, I guess it's a little boring but I was thinking it had a professional, dare I say, elegant look to it."

"No, no, the card's fine. I just... I just met your business partner a couple days ago. Matthew Murdock, right?"

"What? Really? You know Matt?" His voice rose about two octaves higher.

"Well, I don't actually know him, we just-"

"This is great then. I was just on my way to Josie's to have drinks with him and Karen. It's sort of a mini office party. You should come along." He spoke like we were old friends, not strangers who had collided only two minutes before. _Is this how all New Yorkers are or just this guy? He's nice, a little too excitable maybe, but he seems to have a good enough motives. I think_.

"Uh, um, actually-"

"Aw, come on! If I buy you a couple of drinks I might not feel so bad about sending you nose first into the concrete. We don't bite. If it helps, there'll be another girl there. Actually, Karen might bite so never mind about that." He giggled at this, looking at me expectantly for an answer.

My mind raced a million miles per second to come up with a rejection that wouldn't come off as rude. _Just say no. Saying "no, thank you" isn't rude, especially with the thank you part. Be strong. Stand your ground. You don't even need to give an excuse. You don't even know this guy. He might seem nice but he could actually be a murderer who preys on I unassuming women. JUST SAY NO_!

"Um... Well... I... Okay... I guess?"

"GREAT!" Suddenly I was walking arm in arm with the man (I think he said his name was Foggy?) towards a run down bar in the opposite direction of my apartment building, all the while still trying to figure out how I had gotten myself into my situation in the first place. "You're gonna love Josie's. I mean, mostly, anyways. Just don't eat the olives in the martinis. Unless you've already been there before?"

"No, no... I just moved here a couple days ago." We had now reached the entrance to the bar and I suddenly realized just what I had gotten myself into. I would now not only have to converse and try to reject drinks from this man, but also converse with a man who I'm sure doesn't like me and a women who potentially bites. Whatever that's supposed to mean.

I closed my eyes tightly, said a prayer, and followed Foggy Nelson into the bar.

* * *

Author's Note:

It's been too long, friends. Thank you for anyone reading and I'm hoping I'll get the next chapter out sooner!


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